doorway as Dee walked toward the house, the same fear that had shivered along her spine before Dee arrived lodging in her throat once again as she watched her sister move toward the darkness at the edge of the house.
“Are you going in the back door?”
Dee turned to face Lauren again. “No.”
“I’ll walk around front with you.”
“Why?”
Because she was worried about a murderer who might not even exist. “It’s dark.”
“Lauren, I come home after dark six nights out of seven.”
“I know, but…” But what? “Seth was saying—”
“I knew you discussed more than his son’s food allergies.”
“He was saying that the remains found beneath the sidewalk might belong to someone who had been murdered.”
“And? We’ve discussed that possibility a hundred times.”
“And he mentioned the fact that a murderer may be wandering around Magnolia Falls.”
Dee laughed. “You still haven’t outgrown your penchant for worry, have you? But there’s no need for it in this instance. First of all, we’re not in Magnolia Falls. Secondly, if there is a murderer lurking around somewhere, he’s had plenty of opportunity to kill again. Since the police haven’t found bodies spread across town, I think I’m safe.”
Lauren’s cheeks heated at her sister’s words.
Dee was right of course. Of the two, Lauren had always been the cautious one. The one prone to worry and wondering. Imagining worst-case scenarios. Monsters in closets. “Okay, so I’m worried, but maybe Seth is right. Maybe we all should be a little more cautious until the police find out what happened to the poor woman they found.”
“Look, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll go in the back door.”
“It will.”
Dee rolled her eyes, but nodded. “Fine. You stand and watch until I get inside. Not that either of us will be much good if a murderer really is out here. What do either of us know about self-defense?”
Not much, but Lauren decided not to think about that as she watched Dee make her way across the yard and into the house. Thinking about it would only make her worry, and worry was something she had too much practice at.
As soon as the back door closed, Lauren shut and locked the carriage house door, barring it against the darkness on the other side. Silly, she knew. But necessary. She checked the windows, the French doors, pulled the curtains and shades. Surveyed the cozy living room and kitchen area. Everything closed up tight.
Perfect. Now she could do her Bible study, relax a little, maybe log on to her computer and start planning Jake’s meals. A nice cup of tea would be good. Maybe one of the scones she’d made that morning and brought with her on the trip.
Lauren grabbed both, then settled onto the love seat.
“Love is patient. Love is kind.”
First Corinthians Thirteen?
Today was definitely not a good day to be reading about love. Maybe she’d skip a day ahead in her Bible study. She tried to focus on the next chapter, but her mind spun back to a time when love had seemed not just possible, but very, very real.
“What’s wrong, Lola?” Seth cupped her face in his hands, his eyes the green of spring and of hope.
“You’re leaving for college in a week. I’m going to miss you.”
“I won’t be that far away.” He smiled, his fingers trailing from her jaw to her neck, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Just an hour’s drive.”
“Until I get my license and a car, it may as well be twenty hours away.”
“I’ll come home every weekend.”
“You say that now.” She and Seth had been going together for two years. He kept telling her that his leaving wouldn’t change that, but she didn’t believe him. There would be plenty of girls at the small college he’d chosen to attend. Plenty of girls who were probably more outgoing, more exciting than Lauren.
“And I mean it.” Amusement was replaced by fire, his eyes glowing with sincerity. “I love you, Lola. How could I ever stay away from you for more than a few days?”
His words melted the ice in her chest, and she threw her arms around his broad, firm shoulders. “I love you, too, Seth.”
Love.
Right.
Lauren shook her head, trying to dislodge the memories and the sadness that went with them. All these years after Seth had broken her heart and the memories still had the ability to choke her up. That said something about her, and Lauren was afraid it wasn’t anything flattering.
Dreams. Hopes. Love.
They were part of the past and she really, really needed to leave them there.
She stood and paced across the floor. Of all the people that could have won her chef services, it seemed almost inconceivable that Seth was the top bidder.
“A few hundred people at the fund-raiser, and it had to be my old boyfriend who decided to make the highest bid. I guess you’ve got a reason, Lord, but I sure can’t figure out what it might be.”
Something scraped against the window above the kitchen sink and Lauren jumped, turning toward the sound, all thoughts of Seth, the past and God’s plan fleeing.
The sound came again. This time more of a knock than a scrape, and Lauren was sure someone was outside, pressing against the glass.
Her heart slammed in her chest as she turned off the living room light and stepped into the kitchen. Pull up the shade, Lauren. Look outside, you’ll see that no one is there.
Or maybe she’d see that someone was there.
Maybe she should call Dee and have her look out the upstairs window. See if she could spot anyone lurking near the carriage house. Or maybe she should just pull back the shade and see for herself. After all, someone standing on the other side of the glass couldn’t hurt her.
She grabbed the phone, held it in a sweaty hand as she eased the shade back from the window and stared into…nothing. No face with slitted, evil eyes. No ski masked Peeping Tom. Just darkness. She leaned toward the glass, peering into the area behind the carriage house. Something had knocked against the glass. That hadn’t been her imagination. A light by the French doors illuminated the backyard, and Lauren turned it on, then searched the lit area.
If someone had been there he was long gone.
As she watched a breeze ruffled the trees that lined the property and the bushes that abutted the back of the carriage house scraped against the siding. There. The sound she’d heard. Explained. So why was her pulse still racing, and what had she heard bumping against the glass? A
